


Knife Fight

by bzarcher



Series: Overwatch: Fine Dining AU [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, But if you've ever heard chefs and cooks in the kitchen it's pretty tame, Cooking, F/F, F/M, Fine Dining, Food, Gen, M/M, Mature mostly for NSFW language, McHanzo - Freeform, Podfic Welcome, Reaper76 - Freeform, WidowTracer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: A year after putting Overwatch (and Blackwatch) back on the culinary map, Gabe and Jack decide to do something special to celebrate.





	

Twelve thirty in the morning, less than an hour after returning from a successful gig, breaking down, and cleaning up the place, the upper kitchen staff of Blackwatch Catering should have been getting ready to head home, or possibly over to Ana’s for a couple of drinks before calling it a night.

Instead, they were assembled in their kitchen, preparing to go to war.

Gabriel Reyes had changed out of his “formal” gear (pristine white coat with the company logo and his name embroidered on the breast, black pants with creases you could cut a diamond on, and a short black beret) for a metal band t-shirt, jeans that were probably older than a couple of their externs, and his favorite black beanie with the little skull on it that Jack had given him for his birthday.

“OK, what are we looking at?”

After a year as his  _sous_ , Jesse was still wearing the stupid cowboy hat, but at least he saved it for special occasions.

“Hana’s being awful tight lipped, but a little birdie on twitter says we’ll have a full house waiting for us.”

“Great,” Gabe sighed. “OK. Jesse, you’re with me – but Hanzo, keep an eye out because I might rope you in if shit gets weird.”

“Define ‘weird’,” the Japanese man asked, arms crossed as he leaned against a sink.

“Anything that seems like it needs your particular touch – or if Jesse starts getting in the weeds.”

“Aww. Thanks for the vote of confidence,  _jefe._ ”

Gabriel smirked. “I do what I can. Amélie meeting us over there?”

“That’s the plan,” McCree confirmed. “Got a text that she’s finding a good spot to work from.”

“OK, then,” Gabe waved to the company van outside. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

It had been Jack’s idea. To celebrate one year since Overwatch had risen back to the top of Gibraltar’s dining scene (and Gabriel had taken Blackwatch from a barely profitable catering business to a powerhouse, capped off by a glowing review in the latest Zagat guide), they were going to hold a special event.

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted as he pitched the idea to Gabriel over eggs on their one (incredibly precious) shared day off. “You can’t tell me you haven’t wanted to try it. As much as you bitch when I’m watching it on the DVR, you’re critiquing the shit they’re throwing out the window more than anything else.”

Gabe put on a grumpy frown, but it was mostly for show, and they both knew it. “Chef won’t cause a stink? We’re basically suggesting turning the restaurant upside down – after hours – and then putting it back again before service.”

“I’ll pitch it as a marketing opportunity. We’ll have our crews there, we invite a few VIPs –“

“By which you mean D.Va and Ana.”

Jack grinned at the interruption, but went on, “Sell, say, 50 tickets to the public, maybe get a couple of food trucks to take care of the crowd, and go from there.”

Gabe nodded, his voice thoughtful. “Not bad at all. Still going to need to do cleanup afterwards, though.”

Jack’s grin turned wolfish. “Well, what good is a competition without some stakes…?”

* * *

When Gabe pulled into the Overwatch parking lot, the place was already packed. Fortunately, someone had put cones up in one of the parking spaces next to the back door, and Lena was waiting for them there, guiding them through the crowd of people waiting outside, and pulling the cones out of the way.

“’Bout time you got here,” the Brit cried, “Jack’s been pacing a track into the walk-in.”

Gabe snorted as he popped out of the driver’s seat. Jesse and Hanzo popped out of the van, then handed him his knife kit. “This was his idea. Need me to go and talk to him?”

Lena laughed, swatting him on the arm as the group walked into the back of the prep kitchen. “Oh, no! You two don’t see each other ‘til we get started.”

“Lena, this isn't a wedding.”

“Sh! You lot go out there and get ready, and that’s final!” Lena winked, then shrugged on an apron decked out with a massive Union Jack. The little speedball had been taking culinary courses at the local community college without telling anyone, and when Gabe had taken Hanzo and Jesse on for his staff for Blackwatch, Jack had been happy to steal her for the kitchen. Angela hadn’t been thrilled about losing one of her best servers, but Lena seemed even happier working the line than she had serving, which none of them had actually thought possible.

When Gabriel made it out to the restaurant’s open kitchen, it had been carefully divided in half with a large roll of dark red tape. Tables had been moved to make a five foot perimeter of space around it, giving room to move around, while a single table was sitting ahead of the rest, with Hana Song (wearing a dress that was so damn pink it made Gabe's eyes hurt) standing on top.

“All  _RIGHT,_ ” she crowed into a handheld mic. “Our guests of honor have arrived!”

The crowd assembled in the main room of the restaurant roared, and Gabe felt a vague snake of unease work through his gut.

“Jesus, how many fucking tickets did Jack sell?”

Jesse walked up to Gabe, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,  _Jefé_ , we got this. Trust me.”

Gabe couldn’t help but smile a little. “What happened to the 14 year old kid who I caught stealing food out of the walk in?”

Jesse grinned, tipping his hat back with one hand. “Reckon someone helped him get his shit together.”

Gabe smiled. “Wonder who that was.”

There was another cheer from the crowd, and Gabe turned to see Jack and Lena walking out, Jack wearing a dark blue polo stretched tight over his chest.

Once the crowd had died down, Hana grinned, then flung an arm out as she addressed the crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen – are you ready for a  _KNIFE FIGHT?!_ ”

* * *

The rules they’d agreed on for the party were simple, since they’d been based on the same rules used by the TV show Jack had gotten the idea from.

  * One chef, one assistant. (But Gabriel and Jack had agreed that they could “tag in” an extra helper, and the other chef would get his choice of extra hands as well.)
  * Three secret ingredients would be unveiled, which had to be used in at least two dishes.
  * 60 minutes to get it done, serving dishes as they were ready rather than waiting to present them all at once.
  * Anything and everything in the Overwatch walk-in and pantry were fair game to use.



Oh – and since it wouldn’t be a proper after-hours gig without alcohol, Amélie would be slinging drinks from the bar for both teams.

Hana had been delighted by the idea when Jack had pitched it to her, so she was going to be the MC, one of their judges, and had also been responsible for gathering the secret ingredients.

Gabe had asked Ana to their second judge, because he figured she’d probably be in his corner as much as Hana was in Jack’s, but at the same time, he and Jack both knew that she’d be brutally honest about their food. For her part, Ana was pretty much on board the minute they said “free food and drinks.”

(Gabe might have also promised Ana that he’d give Fareeha a summer job, but he would have done that anyway.)

The final judge would be a surprise, brought in by Hana as a neutral third party. They’d find out who it was going to be soon.

Both teams had finished doing some basic _mise_ and getting ready to go while Hana finished explaining the rules to the crowd, then walked up to the front table as Jamie and Mako rolled a cart out of the back with three hotel pans on it, each one covered with a black cloth.

“So,” Hana grinned as she looked at the crowd, “who wants to see what our secret ingredients are?”

As the restaurant clapped and cheered, she walked over to the cart. “First ingredient…bone in pork shanks!”

 _OK,_ Gabe thought, his brain racing, _better get the pressure cooker out for that._ It was a gamble, but it was the only way they’d be able to get the meat tender and juicy enough.

His eyes flicked over to Jack, and he could see the blonde biting his lip slightly, a sign that he was thinking as well, and Gabe could feel his stomach doing a flip. _Foco, vato. Eyes on the OTHER prize._

Hana had gone to the second hotel pan, and yanked the cover off. “Second ingredient…sunchokes!”

 _Oh, what the fuck._ His brain did a loop – those were basically sunflower roots, right? Kinda starchy? He’d never actually eaten them. Hopefully Jack hadn’t munched on them in farm country when he was growing up.

He leaned over to Jesse, keeping his voice low. “Start thinking about those, because I have no fucking clue what we’re using them for.”

“Oh, I’m your huckleberry.”

Gabe was torn between being glad Jesse apparently had an idea, and wanting to smack him for being such a goddamned cliché. Still, time to focus – Hana was getting ready to unveil pan #3.

“Third ingredient – you guys are gonna LOVE these… _angulas!”_

_Whoa._

He’d cooked _gulas_ before – little fish meat noodles that usually fried up great with chiles and pepper – but he’d almost never handled _angulas_. These still looked like noodles, but they were actually baby rock eels – and so much of a pain in the ass to harvest that they cost something like 600 Euros a pound.

Given the mass of them sitting in the pan, ready to be split between the two chefs…damn. That was probably a thousand Euro worth of product. Who the hell had laid out the dough for that?

That shock at the price must have shown on his face, because Hana looked over and laughed as the crowd was ‘ooo’ing and ‘aaah’ing at the final reveal.

“Someone is apparently concerned about how much we spent on this little gig,” Hana pointed out with a wink, “but this is courtesy of my fans on Patreon, who put up the money after I ran a poll on the best ingredients to throw at you guys, so don't worry, just try to do something cool!”

Gabe just shook his head, still feeling a bit stunned. She got people to shell out a couple thousand bucks on command? _I am in the wrong fucking business._

He must have said that last bit out loud, because Jesse had laughed and tagged him on the shoulder. Right, ok. Not his problem – just do something cool, huh? Gabriel stretched his hands, popping his knuckles a bit. OK. Let’s have some fun.

The nerves Gabe had been feeling all week finally melted away, and he tugged his beanie down a bit, getting it seated just right on his head before turning to face Jack with a rakish grin. “Ready over there, _cariño?”_

Jack blushed as he smiled back, the electricity in his eyes sending a shiver all the way to Gabe’s shoes. “Oh, I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Hana grinned, pulling out her phone to show the crowd a timer. “Sixty minutes on the clock! Aaaaaand GO!”

Step one was just getting their shit – Gabe went to the secret ingredients, doing his best to take half of each one, while Jesse was off to the pantry at just short of a sprint.

“Make sure you get the pressure cooker before Lena does, _vaquero!_ ”

Lena laughed as she chased after – “Oh, it is on!”

“We have two, you know,” Jack murmured just loud enough for Gabe to hear as he loaded up a pan with his pork shanks.

“Sure, but how else am I ever going to get McCree to move his ass?” They shared a laugh, and then Jesse came out of the pantry with a pressure cooker on top of a pan full of veggies and bottles, while Lena carried her own armload of supplies, the pressure cooker’s twin tucked under her chin.

Gabe grinned, slapped Jack on the ass to the general approval of the crowd, then put his feet down and got to work. “Jesse – get the pork going with some fresh ginger, five spice, chiles, _mirepoix_ , leeks, soy, and some stock!”

He scanned the crowd as he started cutting up a sunchoke, taking a quick bite – _ok, I guess it’s kind of like a nutty potato?_ – then whistled at Hanzo to get him to come over.

“You’re calling me in already?”

Gabe bent his head down, motioning for the elder Shimada to lean in with him. “Not exactly. I need you to write down that ramen recipe you were telling Jack about.”

Hanzo frowned. “You don’t have enough time for proper Rikimaru ramen.”

“Got a quick and dirty version?”

“I’ll do my best.” Pulling a small notebook from his breast pocket, he began writing.

“…in English?”

Hanzo didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

Last but not least…. “Ai, Ame!”

Amélie looked up from the bar, nodded, and lined up two beers and two shots of tequila on a tray, which Angela was nice enough to run over.

Gabe raised the shot to the crowd, got a nice cheer, and sent the tequila down the hatch.

Jack looked over from where he was doing some prep of his own – “Do I need to start doing shots, or is this more like giving yourself a handicap?”

Gabe actually laughed a bit. “That is entirely up to you.”

Jack settled for getting a couple of beers run over for him and Lena, while Jesse did his shot and left his beer for after he got the pressure cooker going.

Gabriel had the _angulas_ prepped and ready for the idea that had popped into his head when Jesse came over, the pressure cooker on its way.

“Gonna need 45 minutes on that – cutting it close.”

“That’s OK, my plan is to bring it out as close to the end as we can. What about these sunchokes?”

Jesse grinned. “Remember those porcini fries we did for the _futbol_ party last month?”

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up as the lightbulb went off in his head. “Nice, Jesse – I’ll get these cut up, you get blanching water going. I want to hold back about half a pound in case we need extras. Don’t lose track of them!”

Then, he blinked, struck by an idea. “Actually, wait, I’m holding back a full pound.”

“Got it!”

Hanzo reappeared, tossing his notebook over. “Here. Are you using fresh or dried noodles?”

Gabe winked. “You’ll see.”

The puzzled look from Shimada was priceless, but their attention was grabbed by Lena throwing something into a wok with burst of steam and heat. “Almost ready to plate, Jack!”

_Damn, they are hustling._

“Jesse! They’re plating! Where are we?”

“Just finished blanching – they’re hitting the fryer now!”

A cheer went up from the crowd and Gabe looked away from the dried porcinis he’d been grinding up with some salt to see what Jack and Lena have put out – and to see the mystery judge.

Hana’s voice rang out over her mic again – “We’ve got a plate coming out!” and the crowd cheers. Gabe craned his neck to see Hana sitting down with Ana and a dark skinned, dreadlocked man he didn't recognize.

“So before we let Jack tell us what he’s got, lemme introduce our mystery judge!” Hana’s excitement is obvious, and there’s a bit of a hum in the crowd. “He’s been touring all month and he’s got a concert here in Gibraltar tomorrow night – the guy behind _Auditiva Synesthesia_ – Lúcio Correia dos Santos!”

There’s a cheer from the crowd and Gabe is impressed. He didn’t recognize the DJ without his giant frog head, but he’s heard his album streaming just about every time he turns around. _Hopefully he knows a little bit about food, and not just music_.

Hana sat, handing Jack the mic, and he explained the dish that Lena was putting out for each judge.

“So, our first plate tonight is a twist on traditional basque _gulas,_ with _angulas_ deep fried with a seasoned flour dredge, a chili garlic dipping sauce, and lime aioli. Enjoy!”

Maybe Gabe took a moment to enjoy the way his boyfriend’s hips moved as he hustled back into his half of the kitchen. Just maybe.

“Gorgeous,” Hana complimented Jack as she took a quick picture of the plate before lifting an eel up, taking a nibble of the plain eel, then another bite with the dipping sauce, and finally a bit with the aioli. “Really nice starter – the lime is exactly what this needs!”

“I like how crispy they are,” Ana agreed, “but the plain eels are a little underseasoned without the sauces, I think.”

Putting his first plate together as Jesse brought over the fryer basket, Gabriel’s smile turned wicked. “Did you forget to stock your spice rack again?”

Jack looked up from where he appeared to be peeling sunchokes, his face going red. “One _fucking_ time, Gabe!”

Lucio’s eyebrows rose. “Ohh, there’s a story there…”

Hana looked over to Gabriel. “Care to explain?”

Gabriel laughed. “Sure, I’m coming out anyway.” Jesse carried three brown paper cones on metal stands out with him, which he placed in front of each judge. “Story time first, or would you like to know about what we’ve put together for you?”

Ana gave an evil little smile. “Well, I’ve heard the story before, so I think I’ll let the other judges take a vote.”

Hana offered a wicked smile. “Oh, I need to hear this.”

Lúcio fistbumped the blogger. “Spin it up, _chefe!_ ”

Jesse made his way back to the kitchen while Gabriel took a swig off a fresh beer. “So, once upon a time there was a prep cook named Jack, who was told by his _sous_ to restock the spice rack after the weekly delivery came in.”

Jack looked up from his board. “After working a double, and after another prep cook who shall not be named convinced him to do tequila shots after work!”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Put a gun to your head, didn’t I, _mi sol?_ ” Jack blushed, looking back down at his board, muttering something under his breath. “Anyway, so after Jack finishes, the _sous_ comes down to check his work, and what’s the first thing he finds? Five containers of kosher salt!”

“It’s a _seasoning_ ,” Jack growls. ”We use it to bring out flavor! I was tired, and it made sense to me!”

“It’s _fucking salt_ , Jack! It’s a rock! Spices come from plants!”

“Oh, laugh it up, Gabe, you’re shorter than me. You can sleep on the couch without getting a sore neck!”

That got a nice _oooo_ from the crowd, and Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh along with the judges at the table. “So, on to your dish – these are crispy fried sunchoke bites, dusted with paprika and porcini mushroom salt, and a black pepper ketchup for dipping.”

“I love the crunch on these – and the flavor from the mushrooms works SO well,” Lúcio noted, before dipping another fried morsel into the ketchup. “I would eat this all the time – you’d have to roll me off my tour bus!”

“Mm,” Hana agreed. “I like this, but I’m not in love with it? But I’ve never been a huge porcini person.”

“It’s good,” Ana weighed in, “I could use another beer with these, though. Maybe Angela could hook me up?”

Gabe raised an eyebrow when the blonde delivered a bottle as requested, her cheeks burning, but he had bigger fish to fry (hah) as he went back to work on the next dish.

“Jesse, how’s the pressure cooker?”

“Five minutes to cook, ten to vent off!”

Gabe looked over to Hana. “Time?”

“Twenty two minutes, Chef!”

Shit, he’d wanted it close, but that was going to be _close._

“OK, Jesse, grab Hanzo’s notes – get to work on the ramen. We’ll use the pressure cooker liquid, just start prepping the eggs and the rest of the veg.”

“Right.”

He was about to turn back to the cutting board when a buzz came from the other side of the room.

Hana grabbed her mic like a floor reporter, rushing over to the other kitchen. “Jack is tagging in help! Here comes a new challenger!!”

From the side board where she was starting to assemble a _mise_ , Satya looked up, her brows knitting. “I am not a challenger. I work here.”

Hana sighed. “It’s a reference? Street Fighter?”

“…ah.” The Indian woman shrugged slightly, then went back to work, pulling a notepad from her purple chef coat and starting to write out measurements.

“Oh, not good,” Gabe breathed. If Jack was having Satya do pastry for him, it almost certainly meant they were working up a dessert. “Hanzo! Get in and take over for Jesse on the ramen prep – I need to brainstorm.”

To his credit, Hanzo didn’t hesitate, actually vaulting over an open countertop to land in the kitchen, taking over from Jesse with a quick fist bump.

Jesse looked over. “So we need to go sweet?”

“I was originally going to do a quick pickle on the rest of the sunchokes, and have them as a side for the ramen. Can we candy them up instead?”

Jesse frowned. “I like the pickle idea – I’d still take a few and do that. Can’t deep fry the little guys again, it’s too similar. What if we do something like bananas foster?”

Gabe nodded. “Yeah – good call. Run to the back, see if they have cinnamon ice cream still. We take that, caramelize the sunchokes and some actual banana, do the flambé, and we…dammit, we need a finishing touch…”

Hanzo looked up from his board, eyes locking on Gabriel’s. “Candied pecans! There will be a container in cold kitchen, next to the ice cream storage!”

“Fuck, yeah, that’ll work,” Gabe breathed. “Good call!” Turning back to Jesse, he could see his prodigy had something else on his mind. “What?”

McCree grinned. “I’ll grab the stuff, and then I think I’ve got us a secret weapon.”

“…what?”

“Don’t worry, _jefé!_ It’ll be good!”

Gabe sighed. “I’m trusting you, kid. Get going on that dessert!”

He’d put a third of the sunchokes he’d originally set aside into the pickling liquid when Jesse came out from the back, but instead of getting rolling as soon as he finishes getting his ingredients onto his prep table, he’d started to do sign language?

Gabe had not had enough alcohol to deal with this shit. “Jesse McCree, _¿Qué demonios estás haciendo, vaquero estúpida?"_

“I told you, secret weapon?” McCree tipped his hat back, then pointed to the crowd, apparently done trying to tell a runner to steal home or whatever the hell that had been about. “Look!”

Gabe was still utterly confused as he turned around to see Amélie coming out from behind the bar. She’d apparently handed over bartending to Angela for a few minutes, and was taking a tray of beers over to Jack’s side of the kitchen with what he could only describe as _intent._ Something in her walk was making the Frenchwoman’s hips dip and sway a bit more than usual, and he realized after a moment that she’d popped an extra button or two open on her white blouse, exposing a good bit of cleavage.

Then Gabriel looked across to where her path would carry her, and realized that little Lena had, for the first time in the years he’d known her, come to an absolute dead stop.

Amélie’s teeth flashed as she reached their countertops, sliding a beer over to the Brit, her fingertips trailing down the bottle with a very deliberate slowness. “ _Vous avez soif, chéri?”_

Gabe looked over to McCree, his eyebrows halfway up his beanie, and the cowboy just chuckled. “Figure that’s gonna buy us a couple minutes distraction.”

“Psychological warfare, huh?” Gabe chuckled as he turned to check the pressure cooker’s safety valve. “It seems I’ve nothing left to teach you, my young apprentice.”

“Now, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day,” McCree preened as he started slicing bananas.

“I can hear you,” Hanzo observed from where he was finishing up with his prep. “And my couch is much less comfortable than Jack’s.”

Gabe just shook his head, cracking the pressure cooker and inhaling the rich aromas of broth, spices, and pork that had been created. _Oh, fuck yeah._

“Hanzo, it’s go time! Grab your shit and the _angules!"_

They’d almost finished plating and garnishing the ramen when Gabriel heard Jack’s aggrieved voice rising above the noise of the crowd. “Lena, can you please stop being a useless lesbian for _five **fucking** minutes_ and check the pork shanks?!”

_Sorry, but all’s fair in love and war, cariño._

There was a whoop from the crowd as Gabriel and Hanzo brought the steaming bowls of soup to the judges, setting them out and handing over both chopsticks and soup spoons before Gabriel took the mic from Hana.

“For our second dish, we have here is a braised pork shank ramen with _angules_ noodles, half boiled eggs, shiitake mushrooms, leeks, onion, and a side of quick pickled sunchoke chips for you.”

Ana used the chopsticks to grab some of the eels, then a spoonful of soup before she gave her verdict. “This is really inventive. Using the eels in place of the noodles and letting the broth cook them for us was a bold move, and I think it paid off.”

Lúcio had slurped down a healthy bit of the liquid, but he looked a little less on board. “The texture of the eel doesn’t feel quite right to me. I think you wanted these to cook for just a minute or two more in the broth, but the pork and the broth are bang on, and the sunchoke chips are unreal. Perfect palate cleanser for me.”

Hana was thoughtful before giving her call. “I don’t mind the texture – they’re almost like big thick _gamjanongma guksu._ Where I think you went a little wrong is the broth – it’s actually so flavorful that the taste of the _angules_ gets buried. It’s really good – but I think I would have liked to have them stand out a little more.”

Gabe nodded. All good critiques, and for something he’d pulled out of his ass in forty five minutes with a little help from Hanzo’s recipe book? He’d take it. “I appreciate the feedback – we’re going to see if we can pull off one more plate.”

Hana grinned. “Well, you’ve got four minutes!”

Jack and Satya were heading in with plates of their own, and Gabe realized as he passed them that he’d made a bad guess when he’d assumed Satya was doing dessert. So did that mean they might have an edge?

_I guess it depends what they think of Jack’s second dish..._

“Our second dish is a Kerala style pork curry, on a bed of roasted sunchoke puree, with fresh made naan,” Jack explained as they began to dig in. “The pork was braised down in the pressure cooker with stock and basic veg, then shredded and mixed into the sauce.”

“The gravy is a variation on a traditional recipe,” Satya took over, the fingertips of one hand tapping against her thumb in a staccato rhythm as she spoke. “I ground fresh garam masala powder and fried it with turmeric, coriander, garlic, green chiles, and ginger to form the base, then added coconut milk, a bit of the braising liquid, onions, vinegar, tomatoes, and the pork itself. The naan was a simple recipe, fired in the pizza oven to make sure it would crisp properly.”

“Oh, that is so delicious,” Hana pronounced after a few bites. “I love the spice levels here, and that puree is really nice and rich.”

“Maybe a little too rich,” Ana commented. “If I take a bite without the curry to cut it a bit, it’s a little too much for me. I like the flavors in the curry, though. The naan is nice, too, but I’m not entirely sure you need it. It’s traditional, I know, but it doesn’t have a lot to do on this plate.”

Lúcio gave Ana a skeptical look as he sopped up some of his gravy with the naan. “I cannot even take you seriously right now. The naan is exactly where it needs to be.”

Hana looked at her phone – “Down to two minutes. Jack, anything else from your side?”

The blonde shook his head. “We’re done – I’m happy with what we brought out.”

“You should be,” Ana agreed, giving him one of her warmer smiles. “Gabriel? Is that third dish you talked about going to happen?”

“Thirty seconds,” Hana called as Gabriel, Jesse, and Hanzo worked frantically to finish the plates. “Get it up or give it up!”

They had the plates down on the table, the last flames from the alcohol burning off, just as the crowd had started to count down the last ten seconds, and Hana let them hit “Zero!” along with a loud buzz from the timer on her phone, before offering the mic to Gabe with a grin.

“OK, last dish of the night – just in time! How are we finishing up, Chef?”

Gabriel took the mic, then nodded to Jesse. “Credit to my _sous_ – and my extra helper – for this one. Sunchokes and bananas Foster, with a salted caramel rum sauce, candied pecans for a bit of texture, and finished off with some cinnamon ice cream.”

“Oh, oh, ohhhh,” Lúcio crooned. “Love this so much. I didn’t expect the sunchokes and the bananas to work together so well, and the crunch from the burned sugar and the snap of the pecans is perfect. I don’t suppose you guys want a gig cooking on my tour bus, do you?”

“Sorry,” Gabe winked, “I saw them first.”

“So not fair,” the musician complained, “but this really is great.”

“I think you hit this one out of the park,” Ana agreed. “Something about the whole dish just works. The flavor from the rum and the caramel hits just the right notes at the end there.”

“The only thing I wish,” Hana sighed, “is that you had another helping of this for me. And maybe some whipped cream.”

“See you can talk Jack into adding it to the dessert menu later,” Gabe quipped, “as long as Jesse and Hanzo get a consulting fee.”

“Hey,” Ana laughed, “don’t toy with our hearts like that!”

Jack grinned, taking a long swallow of beer before he winked at the judges. “You never know what may happen with the next menu rotation.”

“Ok, ok,” Hana dragged things back on track. “I want to take a couple minutes with the judges to figure out the winner, and I think all six of you have earned another drink and a chance to sit down for a few minutes. Right, guys?”

The crowd cheered their approval, and the next thing Gabe knew he was trading hugs with Jack, Lena, even Satya as they congratulated each other for a job well done.

Angela came around to offer her own congratulations, then lead both teams back into the locker room, where a cooler full of ice and more beer was propped against the back wall.

Rather than go for another drink, Gabriel pulled off his beanie with a long sigh, slid it into his back pocket, and slid down into the seat next to Jack, leaning back against his shoulder.

“We are way too old for this shit.”

“You’re 33, Gabe.”

“I’m 34 in a couple more weeks. And I am going to pay for this when I wake up tomorrow morning. Especially if I’m on that damned couch.”

Jack’s chest rumbled as he laughed, and it felt like the sun was rising inside of Gabe’s heart. “I think I can forgive you. Besides, you had fun.”

“Yeah,” Gabe admitted, watching Jesse and Hanzo whisper quietly, Satya leaning back against a locker, smiling to herself, and Lena yawning like she was about to unhinge her head. “Yeah I did.”

They enjoyed the quiet for a few more minutes, and then Angela was knocking on the door to get them back out front.

“Hey,” Jack whispered quietly to Gabriel as they stood, “remind me that I need to ask you something. Win or lose.”

“What, the bananas thing? You’re welcome to it. I think it’d be fun to see them on the menu.”

“Well, ok, that too,” Jack admitted, “but I had something else in mind. After we find out who won.”

“OK, ok…”

When they came out again, the tables had mostly been put back into the restaurant’s regular configuration, but Hana was standing at what had been the judges table, leading another round of applause from the crowd.

“Time for what you’ve all been waiting for,” the blogger declared, then reached for a bag under the table, grabbing a pair of knives and holding them up to the audience.

One was a 10” heavy cleaver, with “I WON” written onto the blade in bright pink paint, while the other was a smaller santoku, with the message “i almost won :(” just barely squeezed onto the available steel.

“Come on up, chefs!” Hana waited for Gabe and Jack to step up on either side of her, then held both knives above their heads for a moment. “Time to find out who goes home happy – and who is sticking around for a couple more hours to clean up the mess! Lúcio, could I get a drumroll, please?”

The DJ started pounding his hands on the closest table he could reach, and the blogger took a deep breath before putting the smaller knife down on her table, holding the cleaver in front of her chest.

“The winner, by split decision…is…. **GABRIEL REYES**!”

Gabriel grinned as she handed over the cleaver, and he raised it over his head in triumph for a moment before putting it down and wrapping Jack up in a bear hug, followed by a long kiss.

He didn’t really care about winning that much – the more he’d gotten into the whole affair it had been amazing to just play around, showing off their creativity, and watching what Jack came up with was just as fun. His head felt like it was spinning (the tequila and beers might have helped with that), but at the same time it was incredible just to go crazy like this.

Finally, they broke off from the kiss, both just a little breathless.

“Dammit, why did I make cleaning up part of the stakes? Now I’m going to have to wait two hours for you to get home.”

Jack laughed, hugging him again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

“Gonna hold you to that, _cariño._ ” Then, Gabe remembered what Jack had said. “You also wanted me to remind you about something. Win or lose, right?”

Jack nodded, his eyes suddenly a bit nervous. “Win or lose,” he confirmed. “Tomorrow – technically tonight is our anniversary, right?”

“Yeah…” Gabriel’s eyes widened as Jack Morrison dropped to one knee, and a hush suddenly fell as he pulled a box from his pocket.

“So, Gabriel Reyes, will you marry me?”

Once, when Gabriel had been really little, he’d stuck a fork into a power outlet. He remembered the way every hair seemed to stand on end, and his entire body vibrated and shook, completely out of his control, until the breaker had tripped and he’d fallen right on his ass, too stunned to think.

Suddenly it was just like that, only instead of getting electrocuted, he was staring at a little gold and silver band in a velvet box, and blue eyes that were swallowing him up.

His throat was suddenly too dry to talk, and his fingers were shaking as he reached out to touch the ring. His eyes were watering, and suddenly he was nodding, crying, pulling Jack into a hug, all at the same time, his brain completely on autopilot before he launched himself into kissing his boyfriend – make that his fiancée – over and over.

Someone (he thought it was Jesse) started cheering. He was pretty sure the first wolf whistle he heard was from Lena. It all just washed over him in waves as he and Jack just slightly disengaged, together in their own little world.

“You realize,” Gabe murmured, “that our wedding is somehow going to have to top this?”

Jack laughed, tears running down his face now, too. “Yeah? Well, we’ll figure out something.”

“We’re gonna get married,” Gabe whispered, still in a bit of shock. “ _Te amo, mi sol.”_

“We’re gonna get married,” Jack nodded, and they finally turned to laugh and smile like idiots at the rest of their crews, the guests, everybody, as everyone with a phone started snapping pictures of Gabe putting his new engagement ring on.

Gabriel looked over at Jack. “Wait, after all that, you still want me to wait two hours for you to clean up before coming home?”

That got a laugh out of everyone, and Ana rolled her eyes at both of them. “Get your asses out of here and go home, you idiots. We’ll take care of this.”

“OK,” Jack grinned. “I’m not going to turn that down.”

“Me either,” Gabe agreed, leading them through a wall of congratulations and hugs before making it out to the parking lot.

A year ago, Gabriel Reyes had been about ready to punch their boss out and walk away from all this. He'd felt like everything he'd done was being taken away from him, and he didn't know if anything he'd done had actually mattered.

Now he was having what might have been the best day of his life.

Funny how that kind of thing worked out.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to just be a couple extra chapters for 'A La Minute', but once I hit 3,000 words I figured it was worth breaking it off into it's own story. Hope people enjoyed - I think most of the Spanish and French is pretty obvious by context, but corrections are always welcome!
> 
> Will there be more of this? I have no idea, but then I wasn't expecting to write this whole mess, either, so I guess we'll see.
> 
> (Oh - and yes, Lena _was_ thirsty. Very, very thirsty. ;) )


End file.
